Burning Promises
by ShadowSpires
Summary: "It hadn't been too difficult, in the end, to convince Barbara to make him an alias even Bruce couldn't crack. Well, no, it really had been. But it had been worth it." Jason was badly injured in the explosion. Dick finds him.


It hadn't been too difficult, in the end, to convince Barbara to make him an alias even Bruce couldn't crack.

Well, no, it really had been.

But it had been worth it.

She hadn't spoken to him in months, furious at his threats, the markers he had called in to make this all work, but it was worth it.

He let himself into his apartment, and a fond smile crossed his face at the sound of computerized gunfire and explosions from the other room.

Jay had found the entertainment system. Brilliant.

"Take that!" came the crowing laugh from the other room, and Dick walked towards the sounds, shedding jacket and shoes, to see Jason leaned forward, intent on his game.

He was smaller, and paler, than he should be. Muscle mass melted away over the course of his recovery.

Dick leaned against the door jam and smiled.

"Having fun, Jay?" He asked. Jason started and twisted to look at him. The motion was halted half-executed, with a grimace and a muffled yelp.

Dick lunged forward at the sound, apologies already on his lips. He tugged the soft red shirt up, despite Jason's protests and faint blush, to check the stitches along his side. They didn't look too bad. A tiny drop of blood had formed around one where it had pulled, but there was no abnormal redness. He was healing well.

Dick leaned over to rest his cheek just above the healing injury.

_Smoke and rubble, and Dick could hear Bruce calling out for Jason in the distance, but he couldn't care about that. He had *lied* to him, lied to him about *Jason,* about his little brother, his little wing. Dick had to find him. He had seen the flash of red in this direction, while the roar of the explosion was still echoing. _

_A clatter down an alley had him racing in that direction, and there he was. Jason._

_Dick didn't know how he could possibly have missed that, though admittedly it was a lot easier with just the domino - so like the one he had worn as Robin - and not the helmet._

_"Jay…" Dick whispered, stepping forward carefully, warily. His Jay had never been a threat to him, but Red Hood had caused so much damage and death already._

_"Come to gloat, Dickie-Bird?" Croaked out of the darkness that shaded the other's face. _

_A stumbling step forward brought Jason into better focus. _

_"Jay!" Dick exclaimed and darted forward, ignoring the pain in his leg and the wavering gun Jason had pointed at him. _

_Blood was washing down Jason's face, painting it in a gruesome caricature of his helmet. His mask was in tatters. Dick reached him just as his knees buckled. His hand touched wet at Jason's side, and blood pooled thick over his fingers. _

_"Jay!" Dick felt like he was stuck on repeat. He didn't know what to say, what to do. He felt frozen. His little brother was bleeding out in his hands and he *didn't know what to do!*_

_Jay was growing limp in his hands, breathing labored._

_"Dick?" Jason's voice was quiet. Dick leaned in to hear him better, while his hands automatically searched for the wound in Jason's side to try to stem the bleeding. "Did he *ever* love me?" The broken whisper almost broke Dick's heart._

_"Oh Jay, Jay, of course he did. He still does. You can't doubt that, you can't!"_

_But Jason wasn't hearing him. Dick yanked the remains of the mask away, and could see just how dilated Jason's eyes were._

_"Dick?" Jason asked again. _

_"Yeah Jay?" Dick choked out._

_"Don't leave me?"_

_Dick hauled Jason into his arms, struggling to his feet with his big, heavy little brother in his arms. (Big, so big; where had his pint sized little wing gone?)_

_"Never, Jay." Dick swore, as Jason's eyes slipped closed. He stumbled towards his bike. "Never again."_

"-Dick, Dick!" Jason said, pushing at Dick's shoulder and breaking him out of memory. "I'm fine!"

Dick's eyes were wet when he pulled back away. Jason was staring at him, hands still on his shoulders, like he didn't know what else to do with them, what to say.

Dick swiped at his eyes.

"I know, Jaybird. I'm just so glad that you are okay."

Jason bit his lip and looked tentatively at him.

"I…still don't remember." He confessed. He looked like he though Dick might be mad at him for that. Gods. As if.

"I'm glad you don't remember what happened, Jay. It was pretty awful." The betrayal and heartbreak in Jason's face. Yes, he had done bad things, but he had been at heart a wounded young boy. It didn't excuse his crimes, but it maybe helped explain them. He'd shown no particular inclination to violence since waking, after all.

"I hate not remembering!" Jason half-shouted, then immediately winced as the loudness and ferocity of his response jarred his head. That line of stitches disappeared into his hairline. Skull fracture. He was only this week even allowed to sit up for longer periods of time.

"I know, little brother. I know." Dick tried to sooth him, but Jason wasn't having it. Dick smothered a fond smile. Oh Jason. Some things never changed, did they?

"I hate the way you look at me!" Dick flinched back. _What?_ But Jason's hands tugged him back.

"I don't, I mean - You look at me, and I feel… And you, it's like-! You look at me like you love me, like I'm important, and I **don't even remember who I am**!"

Amnesia. Complete erasure of anything personal, though he had retained life skills and impersonal knowledge. A result of the skull fracture, Dick had been told, the first time Jason had woken up, and asked him who he was.

Dick tugged Jason back into a proper hug.

"I do love you." He told the teenager. "You are my little brother, and you are important, and I love you. Remember those things, and you can figure out the rest of it later. "

Jason struggled against the embrace for a second, still unused to that much physical contact, before he settled.

Dick breathed in his brother's scent. He was safe, he was healing. Dick had them away from Gotham, and hidden from Bruce, at least for now. He was unwilling to trust Bruce with his little brother when the older man had already proven that his judgment was impaired when it came to Jason.

He would keep them here, and safe, for as long as needed. If Jason's memories never returned beyond the violent nightmares he was already suffering, well, they would deal with that too. Maybe Jason would have the chance to be the teenager he had never been able to be.

Whatever happened, Dick wasn't leaving his little brother. He had once, and had come back to nothing but memories and a hole in his life where the bright little cuss had been.

He wasn't leaving him again.

He had promised the remnants of the brother he had known and lost and found again.

He had promised.


End file.
